Flowers
by bitterindigo
Summary: Oneshot, a nameless Capitol girl reflects on the Games and what changed her view of them forever.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Sadly. **

The Hunger Games is always my favorite time of year. It's like watching the best, most action-packed movie ever, except better than that, because everything's real. There's no bad acting, no unrealistic scenes, because it's all actually happening.

Believe it or not, I used to hate the Games. When I was 4 or 5, I actually couldn't watch them, because I would get these terrible nightmares.

Which is exactly why I broke up with my boyfriend last week. He doesn't like the Games. Says they're murder. How would I like it if I was thrown into an arena to fight for my life?

That night I had the nightmares again. Way to ruin the fun, Julius.

But by now, I was way over the breakup. I mean, I had seen it coming for a long time. I just wish I had a boyfriend as faithful as Peeta... he's so sweet. Although, it's kind of scary how unaltered all the tributes are. Like ugly newborns. Or my sister. She got fake eyelashes yesterday, and just ripped them off an hour later. It was _so_ gross. They were short, too, only the 2-inch kind. But I guess you can't expect that much from 5-year-olds.

She gets nightmares, too.

My five best friends and I are draped across my sparkly sofa, clutching tiny glasses of champagne and painting each other's nails. They came to my house because it has 7 TV rooms, so we can watch without being interrupted by my sister or parents. They deny it, but we all know my daddy's the richest.

It looks like something interesting is gonna happen, so I turn from Antonia's nails to the screen. 3 of the tributes are getting dangerously close to each other. I can feel myself tense as the dramatic music starts up and Claudius Templesmith, the commentator, speculates on which ones will make it out of this alive. There's Katniss, of course, and her cute little ally. The other tribute is from District 1, I think, and I can't quite remember his name.

Suddenly, the little one is jerked into a trap. She falls to the forest floor, ensnared in a net that Cato had set a couple days earlier. Both Katniss and District One run towards the sound of her scream. The boy gets there first, and I let out a little shriek as his spear enters her belly. At the same moment, Katniss bursts into the clearing, sees her ally on the ground, and sends an arrow through the boy's neck.

Katniss's song is so sad. My girlfriends and I are all sobbing as she finishes the last note and Rue's cannon fires. No Games is complete without tragedy, of course. The sad parts are often my favorite. We'll be over Rue by tomorrow morning, already rooting for the next tribute.

I'm so preoccupied with my tears that I almost don't notice what Katniss does next. She's supposed to just walk away, or cry over Rue's body some more. But instead, she makes her way to a patch of flowers growing by the edge of the woods. I'm wondering what her motives are - I mean, flowers are pretty, but they certainly don't help you survive, right? - when she tucks the very first one behind Rue's ear.**  
**

I'm speechless, unable to even cry, as Katniss slowly decorates the dead girl with her flowers.

It's like opening my eyes after a long, long, sleep. Something clicks into place. This little girl is dead. For real dead, not like in a movie where she'll bound back to her feet once they finish shooting the scene. And it's not District One that killed her. It's me.

Rue is dead. Katniss will die, too. But before she leaves, she's making sure she does something incredible. Something that will make the Gamemakers gasp, the President narrow his eyes, and one little Capitol girl rethink her world.

I mumble something about using the bathroom as I walk out. It's gigantic, only one of the twenty or so in my mansion, with a huge tub and thousands of little buttons and faucets. I lean towards the mirror and examine my reflection, as I have done millions of times before. My own fake eyelashes, a full 6 inches long, dusted with blue glitter, twinkle back at me.

One room away from me, my girlfriends are ordering more champagne and wondering what's wrong. One floor, and my little sister is alone in her room, watching and crying. One mile, and my ex-boyfriend is wondering if I finally understand him. One day, and Katniss is trapped in her arena like a mouse in a cage. And, closer than Katniss knows, Rue is being injected with a blue liquid to keep her body from rotting before it makes it to District 11.

I reach up towards my special blue eyelashes, hesitate for a moment, and then tear them out.

One by one.

**AN: Yay, my second fic! So, while I was writing this, I realized we aren't that different from the Capitol. I mean, we all enjoyed _reading_ The Hunger Games, and most of will see the movie and (hopefully) enjoy it too, despite the deaths. So we might like watching them for real, if we lived in the Capitol, because we would be brought up being told that they're OK. Scary, huh? Except that we don't have 6-inch fake eyelashes. Thankfully.  
Review review review please!**


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